


To Market, To Market

by piddlepaws



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternative Universe - Grocery Store, Dad!Levi, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1208755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piddlepaws/pseuds/piddlepaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi is a single dad and Erwin is responsible for fucking up his favorite grocery store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The price of produce and diapers were going to be the death of him, Levi decided. If the confusing rearrangement of the Titan's Supermarket didn't do him in first. 

He grumbled as he glanced through his grocery list, one hand carding through his dirty hair in frustration. Levi was not an unclean man: he was, in many ways, pristine and unyielding in the fight against grime and he took pride in his usual spotlessness, but he didn't have time between laundry and bills and a fussy kid that morning to shower and it made his skin crawl. 

"Can I help you with anything?"

A voice distracted him from his grocery list, assembled in the order of which the items were located in the store. At least, where they used to be located. 

"Who's the asshole that decided to rearrange this place?" He didn't remove his eyes from the list, didn't expect an answer unless it be an awkward, stammering excuse. Instead, he got a soft chuckle. 

"That asshole would be me."

At this, Levi turned, fully intent on giving said asshole an earful about convenience and muscle memory and _do you know what it's like to shop with an eight month old human being?_ He stopped short of his lecture: the man belonging to the voice was some mortal (but possibly immortal--Levi could't be sure) incarnation of a Hitler Youth poster boy. A blond, blue-eyed stocky monstrosity that practically sparkled with good intentions. Levi's eyes narrowed impulsively. 

"You... This setup is dumb," he wasn't sure what it was about the grocery store doughboy but it took the words out of Levi's mouth and scrambled them around like pieces in a ten-piece puzzle that were still somehow impossible to complete quickly. The man gave him a smile that seemed sincere; it showed his brilliant white teeth and pushed up the skin near his eyes. The treacherous beginnings of crows feet. 

“Actually, the setup is based on scientific studies done to see what the most convenient layout of a grocery store is,” the man chirped happily, as if it was rehearsed, and it pissed Levi off. “You see, the most important products--”

“Shh,” Levi held up the hand that held the list with nothing checked off yet. The man frowned, taken aback, so Levi fixed him with a look that has made more than one person cry. “I don’t give a shit. Just tell me where the bread is.”

The man kept his surprised expression but flicked his eyes down to Levi’s chest. “Shouldn’t you watch your language?”

Levi scowled because the man was right: The kid strapped to his chest was only eight months old, but what the parenting books all said about babies being like information sponges had proven scarily accurate. Levi absentmindedly checked the straps on the weird baby carrier when he pulled his hand back to grab his son’s hand. He had had nightmares of faulty straps and eyes casting judgement at him while the baby squalled endlessly on the ground. It was reassuring to feel the tiny hand squeeze his index finger and he relaxed a bit. 

“Shouldn’t you be helping me find my groceries, Err- _win?_ ” He cocked his head at the nametag on the man’s chest and deliberately pusheed the name around in his mouth so it didn’t sound right. The man--Erwin--was smiling again and it made Levi’s stomach twist like a rag being wrung out over a bucket of warm, soapy water. Without another word, Erwin plucked the grocery list out of Levi’s hand and gave it a once-over before turning his heel and marching off to the nearest aisle. Levi, defeated, followed. 

\-----------

Levi got through his list faster than he ever had and he begrudgingly admitted to himself that it was thanks to the new layout of the supermarket (not Erwin, though he had walked Levi through the first few aisles and told him the aisle numbers where each item was located--Levi refused to give that man or his stupid hair any credit). He made sure he stuffed the grocery list into his wallet, intending to use it to make his future lists. Bouncing a little to settle the kid who was beginning to tire of his restraints while they waited in line to check out, Levi extracted his bundle of coupons from his pocket. He filed through them quickly, making sure he had what he needed and pocketing the ones he wouldn’t use this time around. They shuffled forward as the woman in front of them left.

The kid checking them out couldn’t be more than a sophomore in high school and it made Levi feel old. It wasn’t long ago, he thought, that he was in the same situation, wide-eyed and nervous with enough time to fuck around at a part-time job in between tests and parties. He realized he missed it with a nostalgic twinge in his chest. He missed a lot of things.

A noise pulled Levi back to the present: The kid was talking, his blue eyes questioning and timid. 

“Huh?”

“I said you could swipe your card now, if that’s what you’re using,” the kid rubbed his arm awkwardly, glances at the bags to the left of the register.

Levi pulled the worn piece of plastic out of his wallet and offered it and the coupons to the cashier. “I have these, too.”

The kid took them dumbly, looking at the coupons as if they were some sort of awful prophecy. “Sorry, I um,” he craned his neck in search of someone who knew what they were doing. Levi tapped his foot and tried to not look annoyed. “I haven’t done coupons yet and I just started yesterday-”

“Don’t worry about it, Armin,” a large hand enveloped the boy’s shoulder making both him and Levi jump. “You can go help Jean restock aisle twelve.”

Levi cursed his horoscope for being ambiguous, cursed the blond kid for leaving him with this even more blond GI Joe of a grocery store manager. He stopped short of cursing the baby for cooing and smiling at the guy because it’s not like babies could know not to smile at nosy busybodies with strong jawlines.

“So, what’s your name then?”

Levi boredly examined his wrist, pretending to check his tattoos for fading. “Levi.”

“ _Hi-i,_ Le- _vi!_ ”

Levi had gotten shit for his height before, been treated like a child before, but rarely if not never both at the same time. His head snapped up to glare at Erwin, his throat giving birth to insults that would put prisoners to shame. Before he could cuss Erwin out of the store, he stopped: the man wasn’t looking at him, but at his son, waggling his large fingers at the kid’s smiling face. 

“Oh,” _Fuck._ “I’m-” Levi had to stop before the warmth creeping up his face could give him away. Erwin was staring now, confused. Levi gestured to the baby. “He’s Max.”

“Oh,” Erwin was understanding. Levi almost blessed him when he smiled at Max again, said “Hi, Max.”

Erwin finished scanning the coupons without meeting Levi’s eyes; Levi busied himself with loading the cart with his groceries and pledged to remember his reusable bags next time. When Erwin handed him the receipt, their fingers touched, and Levi almost flinched.

“Have a nice day,” Erwin says genuinely, his smile pushing up at the lines beside his eyes. “Levi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update: edited to past tense yee


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha remember when I realized I hated writing in present tense cause I do

Deserted places in the dead of night had always brought Levi more comfort than their bright and bustling counterparts of the day. It reminded him of being young on a road trip: a display of snacks haloed by fluorescent lights in some gas station off the highway. A bell dinged and his mother tugged at his hand, urging him to make a decision. It might have been something he made up--pieced together bits of memories that only really made sense in his imagination--but he swore he could feel the hardness of his mother's wedding ring against his palm whenever he passed a snack display. 

Naturally he took Max out at night when he was too fussy to sleep, partially because he wanted to instill that same sense of calm for lonely places in his son, but mostly because they always ran out of bananas at the most inopportune moment. A teething child gave Levi an excuse to drive around and peruse the endlessness of a grocery store. 

Fortunately or unfortunately, the Titan’s Supermarket was closest to Levi’s apartment and it stayed open until midnight. It had been less than a week since his run in with the store’s new manager and he had glared at every hint of blondness since: the cheerful characters in Max’s story books, the odd butter-yellow mug that hid at the back of his cabinet. Even the single gray hair that Levi found after a shower deserved the demise of a frantic flush down the sink with his toothpaste and spit. 

He fitted Max into the baby carrier and kept his head down when he entered the store. It was nearly empty except for a brown-haired cashier chatting with a couple of girls at the register and a few more people scattered about either slugging through the aisles or speed walking to get whatever items they came for. Levi grabbed a cleaning wipe from the dispenser hooked to the wall and rubbed the handle of the closest basket thoroughly, cringing at the thought of all the other hands that had carried it. He thought of all of the hands that had carried his hands. He tucked his chin into his collar. 

The produce section was Max’s favorite. It was colorful and well-stocked with things that he could touch and, after a thorough preparation by Levi, try to put in his mouth. Levi picked the most vibrant fruits and vegetables to hold up to Max.

“What’s this?”

“Ah!”

“Apple.”

Max patted at the red fruit, his attention diverted momentarily so Levi could grab what he needed--a hand of bananas and a bag of red grapes for good measure. It wouldn’t be enough for the whole week, but it would do until his next payday. He wandered on, examining the most interesting-looking items from the international section, picking up a few items that they needed as he passed through the aisles: dish soap, tissues, baby wipes.

He considered himself exceptionally in-tune to Max’s schedules, circadian rhythms, what have you. Infants were surprisingly predictable to him which made it easy to prepare himself for an outing, knew when to have a diaper or bottle ready. It was days like this where Max said “fuck it all” to this system and cried too much, wouldn’t sleep, and demanded Levi’s constant attention that made Levi feel the brunt of parenting. Days like this when the smell of a soiled diaper was enough to drive Levi up the wall rather than accept his parental duty without a complaint.

“You didn’t.”

Max let out a cry that threatened mayhem. Levi knew his time was limited before he started to cry seriously; a quick glance around the store yielded no obvious direction to a restroom and Levi cursed the fuckhead responsible for making this store so damn confusing.

But Levi had had experience with this type of situation. He walked quickly past the next few aisles until he came upon the one he was looking for: As he expected, a small stack of dog beds were situated on one of the shelves next to an assortment of chew toys. He pulled a smaller one out of the pile and tossed it to the ground. 

“You had to do this now,” Levi found the changing pad in his bag and situated it over the dog bed. Max gurgled unhappily as Levi laid him down on the mat. “In a place with apparently-hidden bathrooms that are probably disgusting.”

Max whimpered and made a completely pitiful, albeit adorable face.

“You stop that.”

Levi often ended up changing diapers in random places and he was not above using the resources he had at hand to do it, even if it meant using things before purchasing them. Despite this, Levi never felt fully comfortable doing it; it reminded him too much of his younger years, stealing gum and trinkets on dares. Thankfully Max laid relatively still while his diaper was changed, and Levi rewarded him by tickling him into a smile.

"We've got hands-"

"Ha-aaa."

"And feet-"

"Ee!" 

"And-" 

Levi pressed his face against Max's round belly and blew, making a loud and rude noise against his son's stomach. Max squealed with laughter and grabbed Levi's hair in his tiny fists. As footsteps approached him, he continued the play, drawing more peals of laughter from his son. 

"You can't do that." 

Levi moved back to look up at the pissed-off teenager glaring at him. “You wanna switch places, kid?”

“You’re doing-- _that_ in the middle of the aisle,” the kid crossed his arms and wrinkled his nose at the smell of the soiled diaper. “And you’re damaging store merchandise.”

“I’m not doing shit to store merchandise.”

“You’re doing… _exactly that!_ ” The boy gestured wildly to the setup Levi has in front of him. Levi admitted silently that his choice of words was not the best. 

“I’m buying these,” Levi gestured to the package of wipes. 

“I mean the _dog bed._ ”

“There’s a _mat_ on it,” Levi picked at the hemmed edge of the diaper mat as if to prove his point. “It’s what it’s _for._ ”

“If there’s anything on the dog bed, you’re going to have to pay for it,” the kid insisted indignantly. Levi huffed loudly and fixed the snaps on Max’s onesie. He lifted Max into his arms and, with a pointed stare at the angry teenager, shoved the dog bed back onto the shelf. “I’m getting my manager.”

“ _No._ ” He had been doing so well: twenty minutes in the Titan’s Supermarket without a sight of Blondie and Levi was feeling good about it, like he had successfully avoided an annoying neighbor on his way to the mailbox. “Jesus. I’ll leave. Don’t throw a shit-fit.”

The kid stared as Levi gathered his child and other necessary items, returning them to their proper places. Levi was sure that the teenager wasn’t sure of the limits of his own authority, otherwise he’d be hauling ass to the register to ring up the dog bed despite its lack of baby-induced harm. 

After tossing the diaper in a trashcan by the deli, Levi rushed to avoid the possibility of running into any more trouble, Levi walked quickly towards the self-checkout aisle, one hand resting on Max’s head as if to keep him in place and the other maneuvering the basket around the corner displays of discount goods. Two aisles left; he was home free.

“Levi!”

_Fuck it all._

Accompanied by a well-stocked cart of light blue boxes, the jolly blond giant lifted a roll of neon-orange stickers in greeting. Upon further inspection, Levi noticed that the boxes were suspicious-looking onion and chive flavored crackers, and that Erwin’s shirt sleeves were rolled up past his elbows like some out-of-place farm boy.

“I bet you were a fucking riot in high school,” Levi said as he surrendered his hope and let Erwin approach him. 

“Hey there,” Erwin waggled his fingers at Max as he came closer, seeming to have not heard Levi’s remark. Immediately, Max reached toward the advancing man, grabbing the stickers out of his hand and throwing them to the ground with a dissatisfied cry.

“You did this to yourself,” Levi said to his whining son and then, to Erwin, “How often do you get beat up by infants?”

“Once in a while,” Erwin smiled. Levi looked away, his fingers awkwardly picking at stray threads on the sleeve of his t-shirt. The movement pushed the fabric up his arm, exposing more of the ink that covered him. It made him feel out of place; Erwin’s forearms were unmarked, Levi’s were not. Erwin had the stability of a steady job and Levi had no health insurance, no guarantee that he would be able to stay in one place for too long. When was the last time he had felt like this? Levi tried to recall but couldn’t. The man in front of him, the bane of his existence, was distracting him, poking at his son’s cheeks and batting his little hands around.

“He’s adorable.” Max beamed up at Erwin, drool gathering on his chin. His little hands reached towards the blond man. _Traitor._

“You’ve never been covered in his shit or puke.”

Erwin laughed, a deep and clear sound that would surely echo throughout Levi’s mind for the rest of the night. His smile was genuine, Levi realized. At least, it seemed genuine.

“Can I hold him?”

Strangers had asked him the same thing a few times and of course he had refused; strangers were dirty. Even some of his relatives that Levi had known his entire life had been denied the responsibility of holding Max. And he was going to deny Erwin--give him one of the excuses he had given so many times before, end this familiarity then and there before it could advance any more--but a small part of him was curious. He wanted to know why, out of almost every other person apart from Levi, Max seemed so enthusiastic about Erwin. 

With a nod, Levi lifted Max out of the carrier, handing him over and lingering just long enough to make sure that Erwin had a firm grip on the infant. Rather than curling Max against his shoulder like most people would, Erwin rested him across his forearm. 

Max was dwarfed by Erwin’s arms and chest. It reminded Levi of some impossible, small toy that mimicked the appearance of a real child. His tiny fingers grasped the folds of Erwin’s shirtsleeves already in a strong grip that Levi knew too well. Apparently comfortable with being slung over the arm of some stranger, Max’s eyes fluttered closed, his face calm. Erwin moved as if to hand the child back to Levi, who put his hands up to stop him.

“He hasn’t slept yet today,” Levi said quietly, astounded. 

“What am I supposed to _do_ with this?” 

“Just _hold_ him, _Christ,_ ” Slightly smug at how Erwin's plan had apparently backfired, he bent down to pick up the roll of stickers Max had thrown on the floor. “I’ll do this for you.”

Erwin opened his mouth as if to protest but Levi was already pressing the bright orange “50% OFF!!” stickers to the boxes of crackers on the cart. It wasn’t like he could refuse, anyway; the way he held Max was awkward for him and it was obvious to Levi that he’d never had a baby closer than a few feet away, let alone slung over his forearm. Levi enjoyed the freeness of it, the empty carrier loose and strangely light without the weight of a baby holding it down. Levi was content with the silence they had going on--he didn’t want to actually _talk_ to Blondie--and he liked the methodical movements of putting the stickers on the boxes. It was like cleaning; he didn’t really have to think about anything while he actually accomplished something. 

Of course, Erwin ruined the calm.

“I like your ear thingies,” he offered quietly.

_This grown-ass man just said ‘thingies.’_

“Thanks,” Levi said slowly, drawing out the vowel sound so it came out more like a sarcastic _thaaaanks_. “They’re called gauges.”

“Gauges,” Erwin repeated him like a fucking parrot.

“Yep.” Levi wanted this conversation to end.

“Doesn’t Max pull at them?” But he didn’t mind that Erwin remembered his kid’s name. 

“He does.” 

“Why don’t you take them out?” Erwin had started swaying, almost naturally, the way parents were supposed to sway with sleeping babies. It made Levi feel nostalgic, possessive. 

“Why did you change the layout of my store?” He countered, annoyed. Erwin raised his thick brows and hummed questioningly.

“ _Your_ store?”

“ _My_ store.”

“Hm,” Erwin hummed again, mulling over Levi’s words. “You have a familiarity of this store so much that you notice when it’s reorganized, yet you don’t notice while the reorganizing is taking place.”

Levi continued with his task, pretending to ignore Erwin.

“As the reorganization process actually took a while to complete, it would be unlikely for you to just miss it. And your referring to it as ‘your store’ suggests that it’s a common place for you to shop.”

“Alright, Sherlock-fucking-Holmes.”

“ _Also,_ ” Erwin continued, staring intently at Levi while he finished up with the crackers. “I’ve been here almost every day for the past six months, and I haven’t seen you here before.”

Levi tossed the roll of stickers on top of the cart and moved to scoop Max from Erwin’s arms. “If this is some kind of PR thing-”

“My plan is to help provide a quality, personal, small-business experience while maintaining decent prices and services.”

Levi could have laughed at how serious Erwin was: his blue eyes were set, determined at the task he had set before himself. Part of him wanted to spit out, _‘It’s a goddamn grocery store, fuckwit,’_ but he remembered a talk he had with his father when he was seven, when he’d expressed his plans to be a world-renowned doctor:

_“Shit like that doesn’t happen, Levi.”_

He couldn’t remember his father’s face when he said it but the familiar smell of beer and motor oil swirled through the memory. 

“I moved away for a bit,” Levi said, finally meeting Erwin’s eyes. “Lived with my parents.”

“I see,” Erwin seemed as if he wanted to say more, but didn’t. Levi looked away and lifted the baby back into the carrier; he was still fast asleep.

“You put some kind of sleeping spell on him, Blondie?” Levi grumbled before picking up the abandoned basket. Erwin shrugged. 

“I read an article on different ways to hold babies. I wanted to try it out.”

A reply coiled itself in Levi’s throat, a snarky comeback that poised to respond, but slunk away at the softened expression on Erwin’s face. It was almost dreamy, the way Erwin looked at Max. He wanted to call Erwin out on it and make him blush or something that would betray his composure for once. 

Instead, Levi said, “I think I pissed off your checkout boy.”

A moment of confusion passed over Erwin’s face before he laughed. “I don’t doubt it. He’s easily riled up.”

“He seems like a fucking brat.”

Erwin smiled at Levi before turning back to his crackers. 

“His heart’s in the right place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also while writing this I realized I have no ideas how babies work other than you're not supposed to feed them honey or chipotle so this should be fun
> 
> also thanks!!!! for the comments and kudos and such wowieee
> 
> also I'm in the middle of the shitfest that is midterms and I have a 7-page paper on sodomy and the like due on Wednesday so if you need me I'll be crying probably
> 
> ok bye i love u
> 
> also ps. I'm going to be editing the first chapter to be in past tense don't worry precious


	3. Chapter 3

Levi wasn’t sure when they evolved into something other than friendship, but he figured it probably happened one of the nights in senior year when they had gotten too drunk on cheap beer and shitty boxed wine. Like the night just after Petra found out she had been accepted to one of her top choice schools, when she had wanted to make up for every sleepless night and missed get together by bringing Levi to someone’s house party that he wouldn’t have been able to get into by himself. 

By midnight she was blacked out--this he was sure of by the way she’d stop, close her eyes and smile as if she had stolen a lovely piece of the world to keep for herself. “I’m going to _college,_ Levi,” she kept repeating as she clutched his arm in one hand and her drink in the other. 

Later, when they hid in someone’s hedge while the cops busted the party a few streets away, she had cradled his head in between her drunken hands and, eyes closed, swore mercilessly to him that she would never leave. 

“Never, ever,” She whispered. “Never--not even for a _second._ ”

He had agreed right away but she wouldn’t let him move until he had said “okay” about a hundred times. Then he brought her home, snuck her through her house in expert silence, took her shoes off for her and put her to bed. 

“Levi,” she whispered to him in the darkness, holding his sleeve to keep him there.

“I gotta go home, Petra,” it wasn’t imperative that he did, though, and they both knew it.

“Stay,” moonlight filtered through the spaces between the blinds. It covered Petra in bright lines that exaggerated the whiteness of her bedsheets. “Stay with me, please.”

And who was he to deny her?

That night was veiled in his memory by an inebriated haze but he remembered her drunken mutterings, her lips against his neck to seal her lofty promises. She had traced patterns into his chest with her finger, letting the fabric of his t-shirt gather and dip under her nail chipped with polish. 

“Auruo Bossard asked me out again,” she mumbled it into his side like a secret.

“He’s a good guy,” Levi had countered. It was true: Auruo Bossard was an exceptional student, involved in several committees and played in the co-ed tennis club with Petra. But at the moment Levi was more concerned with counting the number of glow-in-the-dark stars on Petra’s ceiling. 

“You did’n say that in middle school.”

“He was an annoying shit in middle school.”

Petra giggled, then laughed. Levi had to press his hand against her mouth to stifle the noise.

“You want your dad to kick me out, Ral?”

“He won’t kick you out!” She giggled for a few minutes before she calmed down. Her hand rested across his heart and he moved to cover it with his own. “M’dad likes you too much.”

“Go to sleep, Petra.”

“ _I_ like you too much, Levi.”

“I know.”

“You’re my best… actual best friend.”

“I know.”

“Like _really._ ”

“Shh,” He pressed his hand to the side of her face, willing her to shut her eyes. “Sleep, dummy.”

“ _You’re_ a dummy.”

The moon had shifted during their conversation; it illuminated the floor next to the bed and Levi tried to watch its tedious movements until he was sure Petra had fallen asleep. When her breaths became deep and even with the occasional, soft snore, he slid from under her limp arm, tucked her back under the covers, and crept silently out of her house. 

\--------------

It was decided that every Saturday after moving back to Trost, Levi would strap Max into his car seat, pick up a bunch of flowers at the flower shop, and bring them all to visit his half-dead ex-girlfriend in the silent wing of Saint Maria hospital. 

Silence was not mandatory in the East wing, but it was a side effect of being inhabited by a bunch of coma patients. Levi only ever heard the quiet be disturbed by hushed voices visiting or Max's babbling. The beeping of the heart monitors and various other electronic faux-life forms all bled together into background of Levi's perception. 

As expected, Augustus Ral sat in the chair beside his daughter's bed, his hands folded neatly in his lap.

"'Morning," Levi said as he approached Mr. Ral. Mr. Ral lifted his hands in response to take Max and Levi placed the flowers in the empty plastic vase on the table beside the bed. He busied himself with organizing the items on the table, purposefully keeping his focus away from the bed itself. 

"Are you keeping your dad awake?" The balding man asked the infant. 

"Dah," Max replied and grabbed his grandfather's nose. 

"He wakes up every two hours now," Levi threw himself down in the chair across from Mr. Ral and let himself sink back into the scratchy fabric. "I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in months."

"Babies are like that," Mr. Ral--Levi never felt comfortable calling him by his first name despite having known him for years-- bounced Max in his lap and mimicked the smile that spread widely across the baby’s chubby face. “He’s gotten big,” he said and Levi sensed a melancholic tone to his words.

“Look,” Levi pointed at Max. “His teeth are coming in.” 

Mr. Ral made a noise of delight at the observation, pushing down Max’s lip to get a better look at the white buds poking out of his pink gums. Then they were silent except for the whirring of the machines. Levi spent the time moving his eyes around the room, examining the strange, motel-quality painting that blended into the wall so well that he couldn’t tell if it was hung crookedly or not. His eyes traveled gradually, so casually that it seemed almost coincidental that she was lying there, until at last they rested on Petra.

She hadn’t changed at all and it tugged at the ache in Levi’s chest; it was as if she was asleep--she _was_ asleep, technically--and he wasn’t sure if that made it worse or not. Other than the length of her hair, she seemed as if nothing had happened in the last seven months. Her posture was artificial; he had not once in his life known Petra to sleep on her back, especially not with her arms laid neatly by her sides like some rigid mannequin. A flash of a memory crossed his mind--a diorama about polio that he had made in grade school using a cheap plastic doll and popsicle sticks for furniture. It earned him a B+ and it had made him furious.

“Fuck,” he breathed. Tentatively, he reached over and grabbed her hand. It was warm and familiar.

“Not that anything’s changed,” Mr. Ral continued, speaking to Levi while giving Max his full attention. “But it helps--I like to think it does. The doctor says she’s still aware of things like sound and touch.”

He had spent nights going between a glaring bright computer screen and a newly-born Max, poring through articles online as if the more he knew about vegetative states, the more likely Petra could wake up, smile at him, hold their son and continue existing as she had been. So much information had been stuffed into his brain but none of it had been worth anything where it really mattered.

“It’s been months, Levi.”

Mr. Ral’s words were hollow with disappointment, what Levi considered to be the telling sound of a parent. 

“I know.”

“It’s been hard for all of us.” 

“I know,” the hardness in his voice was enough for Mr. Ral, apparently; Levi saw him glance over to him while he kept his eyes focused on Petra’s hand in his. He knew he had failed, not as a parent but as a friend, a decent person. He had taken the only anchor to the world he had left and hidden them both away in the childhood home that felt too foreign to be comfortable. It was selfish, and he knew that. But he was too young and it was all too much to wallow in. 

“I wanted to come back,” Mr. Ral remained quiet; he was, just as Levi remembered, the kind of person that would wait for a full explanation rather than barrel in halfway through the other side of an argument. “I almost did, a few times. I wanted to come back but I couldn’t.”

“May I ask why you came back? Why now?”

The rhythm of Petra’s heart monitor had synced up with Levi’s heartbeat, but he also had the feeling as if he was imagining the dull thuds cycling in his chest. “Time, I think,” he breathed slowly through the surrealness. “I needed time, but I realized I owe it to him to be around her.”

“That’s very selfless of you,” Mr. Ral said and stood. He handed Max back to Levi who held the infant close to his chest. “I think that’s enough for today. I’m sure you have other things you need to be doing.” Levi felt the need to protest; it hadn’t even been an hour but he was already envisioning his return home. He would lock the door and ignore everything that didn’t involve Max and an array of bright plastic toys. “Before you go, I’m going to pray,” Mr. Ral told Levi and shut his eyes without waiting for a response.

Levi was not religious, had not been religious since fifth grade when a girl from his church called him a heathen on the school bus and he decided religion was another thing he couldn’t waste energy caring about. But now, Levi lowered his agnostic defenses, stood next to Mr. Ral with closed eyes and kept silent in the space of prayer. Mr. Ral was truly religious and probably had righteous, genuine prayers running through his mind, but Levi stood awkwardly silent, bouncing Max on his hip, and offered up flimsy reasonings to any possible higher power.

 _Dear God, or whatever,_ he began.

_Sorry. I don’t think I’m the right guy to be asking you anything, but it would be much appreciated if my car didn’t kick the shitter for a while. And Max--if he could be alright for a while, too, that’d be great. I’d ask for more than a while, but I know how this shit goes._

_I won’t ask to make Petra better anymore. I guess there’s some things even you can’t do. No offense._

_Mr. Ral is a good guy and he actually believes in you, so keep an eye on him._

_God--I think I forgot to leave the chicken out to thaw. Fuck._

_Fuck--sorry._

Max was struggling in Levi’s grip; Levi shifted him in his hold, pressed his lips against his head covered in soft, thin hair.

_Please let Max end up okay. He doesn’t have to be president or anything--he can be a used car salesman for all I care. Just let him be whole and conscious long enough to have a life of his own._

Mr. Ral sighed, a sign that he had finished praying. Levi kept his eyes closed for a few moments more, then opened his eyes to look again at the still figure in front of them. 

“Bye, Petra,” He said quietly and stepped forward to squeeze her hand. The whirring of the machines went on, and on, and on. He added a postscript to his prayer as he left the hospital; one that wasn’t a request or a plea, but a confession he could only make between himself and the possible entity of eternity:

_I am back and it is crushing me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could promise an update a week or something like that but I'm a very good procrastinator with 3~ major school assignments coming up within the next two weeks soooooooo that's probably not gonna fly. Sorry :/ 
> 
> I'm really glad y'all seem to be enjoying this thing wowie I really appreciate it. If you want to say hi or chat or send me dumb headcanons my side tumblr is [lancecorporalbuttpie](http://lancecorporalbuttpie.tumblr.com/)
> 
> okay thanks bye ah


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'I'm not gonna update until my work is done' yeah well fuck that I guess

The deal made when Levi joined the accounting team of Sina Insurance was that he would cover every hint of “indecent body modification,” called so by his new boss, Nile. Nile himself suffered from an unfortunate hair situation that Levi found more offensive than the markings on his own skin (though he did, begrudgingly, keep his sleeves rolled down at all times and wore plugs that matched his skin tone). Nile always spoke of his daughters and Levi assumed that it was these three little treasures that persuaded their father into a harmless game of beauty salon that left him with a ridiculous grown-out mohawk.

This monstrosity of a hairdo greeted Levi when he got to work on a Wednesday morning. It poked over the top of his cubicle wall, giving Levi the only warning he would have before his morning lecture. 

“Morning, Nile,” Levi said as he slid his bag from his shoulder and dropped it beside his desk. 

“You’re late,” Nile said at the same time while checking his watch. “Three minutes.”

Levi suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “I got puked on,” he offered dryly. 

Nile scowled but Levi could tell that he understood the situation because he backed off with a warning for him not to let it happen again. Other parents’ weaknesses were obvious and Levi was not above exploiting them: As a father of three, Nile would understand the frustration of going through the lengthy process of dressing for work only to have to change due to some disastrous spillage of substances. It didn’t matter that Max hadn’t puked on Levi that morning--it was easier for them both to go by that story instead of the truth (Elmo was especially interesting to Levi when he was sleep deprived). Nile then changed the subject by suggesting a playdate--apparently his youngest was around Max’s age and he thought it would be good for them to interact. 

“My girls all matured faster than the books said,” Nile bragged casually, leaning over onto Levi’s desk. “Maggie started walking at six months. Can you be _lieve_ that?” He grinned and asked if Max had taken his first steps yet. 

“He mostly just rolls around, still,” Levi said and tried to ignore Nile’s disappointed if not unimpressed look. Nile sighed and gave Levi a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“Well, all kids are different, right?” He smiled and Levi silently vowed to start Max on a training regimen until he could walk Maggie Dawk out of the fucking _water._ “I’ll let you get to work, then.”

Levi waited for Nile to disappear behind the next row of cubicles to make a grotesque face in his direction. Then he sighed and dropped himself down into his chair, booting up his computer and mentally preparing himself for eight hours of tedious number crunching. 

“God, are _all_ parents that annoying?”

Hanji Zoe: fellow accountant, cubicle neighbor of Levi’s, and the main reason why inflatable exercise balls were no longer allowed as substitutes for office chairs at the Trost branch of Sina Insurance. 

“It’s like you guys were battling for who could be more of a nerd,” a dirty mop of auburn hair preceded Hanji’s bespectacled face, already slack with boredom as they poked their head over the divider between their and Levi’s cubicles. “Like, ‘my kid is reading at an eighth grade level and they’re not even out of the womb yet.’ Bull _shit._ I'm going to teach my future infants how to roller skate, just to fuck with other pretentious assholes who think they’re special when their kid learns the alphabet. ”

“That’s unrealistic,” Levi countered and flicked a stray piece of balled-up paper at their face. “Infants don’t have the muscle strength or the coordination to roller skate. Also, fuck you; milestones in speech are an important part of a child’s development.”

Hanji rolled their eyes and changed the subject to something they found more interesting. “So like, who would win in a fight: your baby or Nile’s baby?”

Ignoring Hanji’s question, Levi trudged through his morning routine of checking emails and noting any special tasks he had to complete. Hanji eventually retreated back to their own work, leaving Levi alone until their lunch break where they bugged Levi with hypothetical questions regarding infants’ fighting abilities. 

(“If Max can’t even walk, how do you expect him to fight off a baby that _can_ walk?”

“He’s really good at rolling,” Levi said around a mouthful of yogurt and granola. “If he put his mind to it, he could barrel down like, three walking babies maybe.”)

The day passed as quickly as he could expect it to; he had made a decent-enough dent in his work by the time he was able to count down the ten minutes he had left. As he was putting some finishing touches on some organizing, Hanji popped up over the cubicle wall again, a piece of paper held loosely between their index finger and thumb.

“Hey Le- _vi,_ ” Hanji sang, a pleading look crossing their face. “I have a question.”

“I’m not gonna take your shift on Saturday, so don’t ask.”

“Great, cause I was going to ask you if you wanted to come to a dinner party on Friday night,” Hanji wiggled their eyebrows enthusiastically. “Some of my high school buddies, some microwavable h’orderves, cheap booze. We’ll probably end up watching Space Jam. It’s gonna be great,” they held out the paper for Levi to take. 

“Space Jam?” Levi asked as he took the paper. Hanji’s address and phone number were scrawled messily in large, looping letters. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Space Jam.”

The look Levi gave them seemed to answer their question. Hanji let out a loud groan that probably brought the attention of the other employees, but they seemed not to care.

“You’ve never seen _Space Jam?_ ” They ran a hand over their face then adjusted their glasses. “Alright, we can take care of this, Levi. It’s gonna be okay.”

Levi rolled his eyes and started to pack up his things. He wouldn’t mind a night of interacting with people his own age; those he used to hang out with had long since left Trost for bigger and better things and hadn’t contacted him since Max was born apart from the occasional email. And he liked Hanji, despite their tendency to distract him from his work, because they seemed genuinely interested in Max and always laughed at Levi’s poop jokes. Truly he wanted to have a night off, to relax and enjoy himself and the company of other adults, even if it was with Hanji and their weird friends.

“It sounds really--” he searched for a word that was both accurate and not a lie. “Interesting. But I have Max--”

“Bring Max,” Hanji said with a look of unsettling determination in their eyes. “Bring the baby, I want you both to come. Please,” they waited a few moments to let Levi think. “My one friend works in a deli and sometimes he brings really huge salamis that they don’t sell.”

“Well shit, who wouldn’t be enticed by that?” Levi started packing his things back into his bag. He checked his phone mostly to ignore Hanji’s pathetic pleading looks, then sighed. “Can I get back to you about it?”

“ _Yes!_ ” Hanji cried out excitedly, punching the air with a fist. “That basically means you’re coming.”

Levi rolled his eyes and shut off his computer. It meant he would think about it, possibly make a casual effort to find a babysitter, but make no definite promises. The thought would follow him on his way home but would be forgotten as soon as he needed to make dinner or change a diaper, just as similar thoughts always did. 

He bid Hanji goodbye and promised to think about their offer (think, not do anything); he would definitely text them by the next evening to tell them if he was going (he wasn’t) or not (there was an untouched bag of shortbread cookies in the cupboard and four seasons of a show he’d been meaning to watch that called to him). There would be enough time during his midlife crisis to eat unsellable meats and watch weird movies. 

At the third red light he encountered, he quickly typed out a text to his mother, asking her if she wouldn’t mind having some quality time with her grandson this Friday, knowing the answer would be a resounding ‘Yes!!!!!!!!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boop bop beep I am the queen of short chapters and you cannot stop me
> 
> I'm still at [lancecorporalbuttpie](http://lancecorporalbuttpie.tumblr.com/) if y'all wanna chit chat or endure my haphazard blogging style
> 
> so for real Idunno when the next update will be (will there even be an Erwin??? mystery) because the next few weeks are going to make my existence an absolute clusterfuck and I'm probably going to cry. I don't understand how some people can do weekly updates that are 600 times my usual chapter length wow. So super apologies for those of you who actually read this ding dang thing (you precious souls).
> 
> ya okay bye (i love u!!!! yes you)


	5. Chapter 5

The wrinkled piece of paper had explained the ‘where’ and the ‘when’ in full, excessive descriptions. The ‘why’ (to have fun, experience the “magic of friendship” and sample various alcohols) had the most words devoted to it and took up nearly half of the paper. What Levi needed was the _‘how.’_ It had been ages since his last experience in a gathering of acquaintances, and that was _before_ Max was born. He felt his vacation of solitude hanging around him in a cloud that he was sure was visible to every tenant of the apartment building that passed him on their way to the stairs. It was already five minutes past the time on Hanji’s instruction sheet and every minute added another pound of weight circling his wrist, keeping him from raising his hand and knocking on the door.  
Levi took a moment to examine the small entryway he stood in. The foyer’s attempt at modern decoration clashed with the set of outdated mailboxes built into the wall, their brass faces scratched from years of use and visibly sticky with the peeled-off remnants of the nametags of past tenants.

 _Gross,_ Levi thought to himself and picked at another imaginary piece of lint on his sweater. The mailboxes continued to be an eyesore and time kept its steady progression.

 _There’s no need to be nervous._ He had reminded himself that afternoon as the specified time of seven o’clock grew closer. _This is a casual dinner party among adults, your peers and equals._ He repeated it again as he waited for a sign to either lift his hand or tug him back out onto the sidewalk.

He had spent a good hour poring through tabloid and news websites learning as much as he could about the current events so he would have some sort of opinion if one of Hanji’s friends asked him about a sports team or an oil crisis. When his mother arrived at his apartment, he listened to her tirade on celebrity gossip rather than ignore her as he usually did when she became excited about famous strangers’ face lifts and affairs. He left home feeling confident enough in his small talk abilities that the short commute on the city bus didn’t creep him out as much as it usually did (though he still scrubbed up to his wrists with hand sanitizer on his departure).  
It was strange to be out in an unfamiliar apartment building without the weight of a diaper bag or a small, yelling human child filling his arms. It was even stranger to stop at the liquor store a block from Hanji’s to grab a bottle of wine; Levi hadn’t so much as touched alcohol since before he learned of the spawn that floated around in a foreign body, carrying enough pieces of his genetic code to make him feel drunk and sick enough. It was an unfamiliarity that Levi hadn’t felt in a long time and the interruption in his organized chaos of a life seemed to be turning his stomach into a roiling mass of awkward muscle contractions.  
Briefly, Levi considered leaving. He could cradle the wine back home on the bus which would be disgusting, but at least there was a new bottle of soap at home to help ease him out of the dirty haze of public transportation (not to mention the wine-induced amnesia that would temporarily repress the grime from his thoughts). Max could already be asleep if the baby-whispering charms of Mrs. Ackerman held true, and the two adults could enjoy a few solid hours of quiet sanctuary from their respective wards. Levi thought of how grateful his mother would be for a night off from her husband’s talk of mechanics while enjoying the company of some wine and her son.  
All of a sudden, a memory flashed through his head of Isabel Magnolia from grade school trying to convince him to climb up the swing set. Her missing front teeth left an awkward hole in her grin as she yelled at him from her perch atop the high metal bars:

" _Don’t be such a pussy!_ "

The memory of Isabel’s taunting made his chest swell in frustration (he had tried to climb up to her but couldn’t do it before the recess aid stopped him, and the humiliation from Isabel’s smugness still tugged at his patience) and he was rapping his knuckles firmly on the door before he could think twice.  
Levi still looked disgruntled when Hanji answered his fervent knocks. They gave Levi a confused look.

"Where's Max?"

Levi frowned and mentally gave Hanji thirty seconds before he shoved past them into the apartment. "I left him at home."

" _Alone?_ "

"No, shitwad, with my mom."

Hanji slumped with disappointment. “I was really looking forward to meeting him!”

“I had to make sure your apartment wasn’t as messy as your desk before bringing him,” He stopped them before they could go into a long-winded defense of whatever they had to say about the importance of each individual item that they kept on their desk at work. “You invited me to your damn dinner party and I showed up. That’s the most you’re going to get out of me tonight.” He paused to take a deep breath and waited for Hanji to realize that they had invited an enormous asshole rather than a coworker to their friendship party before slamming the door in Levi’s grumpy little face.

Instead, as if to maintain their inclination towards unpredictability, Hanji laughed.

“I’m _so_ glad you actually showed up!” They tugged Levi into the front room of the apartment, a small mudroom where four pairs of shoes sat in the general area of each other next to the wall. Levi recognized Hanji’s barely-passable-as-professional canvas sneakers messily askew next to a pair of sandals that faced the wall neatly.

_Who the fuck wears sandals in October?_

The front hallway led to a living room that would have been more spacious if not for the unnerving amount of books and loose papers that were shoved into stacks between the furniture like unsuccessful attempts at modern decorating. A sizable flat screen television sat between two bookshelves that reached almost up to the ceiling, interrupting the controlled mess of literature. Technically the room could be called clean as the floor was cleared with enough space to move between the couches, but the organization system for the books left Levi a little dizzy, and the three beaded curtains that separated the room from the others dragged him back to a regretful period of his teenage years.

“There’s beer in the fridge you can help yourself to but first—I did all of this my _self_ ,” Hanji stated proudly, waving an arm around the room. “Filed by location, naturally. The shelves had to go through a couple renovations as I progressed in my work—”

“This is all _work_?” Levi asked, incredulous. Hanji had never seemed to be the type to bring accounting home with them.

“ _God_ no,” Hanji chuckled. “This is all research. Fossils are my thing,” their head tilted a degree. “Haven’t I ever told you about my research?”

They hadn’t. “Of course,” Levi waved a dismissive hand. “That’s right. Fossils.”

A frustrated yell and a string of curses interrupted them. Levi silently thanked the tall, scruffy blond man who popped out from behind the beaded curtain across from them; Hanji had seemed all but hesitant to continue sharing about their research.

“Your knives are _shit,_ ” the man said. His sandy hair seemed to cover most of his face and Levi felt satisfied with his resolution of the mystery of who the sandals belonged to. “I need a sharpening stone that’s not part of some weird, dead creature.”

“Do _not_ touch the rocks in that drawer,” Hanji called out loudly as if to scold both Sandal Man and whoever else might be in earshot and moved towards the swinging beads. “They aren’t for cooking purposes—” they glanced back at Levi, still holding the bottle of wine and looking around at the odd décor. “—Mike, this is Levi. Levi, Mike.”

Mike’d nod at Levi was all the recognition he gave before he continued to harass Hanji about the sharpness of their knives. Not knowing what else to do and slightly curious about the appearance of the rest of the apartment, Levi followed the pair through the dark wave of tangled beads.

Mike was pinching the meat of his thumb as if to coax the angry red line there into producing blood. “Look at this. I’m not even cut.”

“Would you rather be gushing blood?” Through the doorway that led to the kitchen, a woman in a pale blue apron appeared carrying a stack of plates. She noticed Levi right away and set the plates down to extend her hand towards him. “Hi. Levi, Right?” Her grin widened as he nodded. She shook his hand quickly before taking the wine from him, setting it on the table next to a plate of assorted cheeses. “I’m Nanaba. Hanji’s told me a lot about you.”

“Good things, I hope,” Levi said because it was more polite than asking ‘ _why were you talking about me, Four-Eyes?_ ’

“Bad things,” Hanji piped up. They were rummaging through a cabinet that seemed to double as a storage place for both glassware and winter coats. “Like that time we ate Nile’s lunch, or when put a bag of ants in the ladies’ room.”

A bark of a laugh escaped his throat against Levi’s will. “That was a lot of ants.”

“ _So_ many ants,” Hanji finished searching and handed a small, white box to Mike, who began flicking the knife against it immediately. “Even Erwin was amused by that one. Speaking of—ERWIN!”

_What._

“Quit peeing and come meet my friend!”

Levi began reasoning the probabilities of there being an Erwin who lived in Trost (‘ _The name is too uncommon. It wouldn’t be unlike Hanji to make friends with some old man they found in a park._ ’)

“I wasn’t peeing, I—”

Seeing the look of combined surprise and confusion on Erwin Smith’s face almost made the time Levi had wasted looking for graham crackers in his store last week worthwhile.

“Levi,” Erwin said, straightening his wrinkle-free button down. “I didn’t think—”

“That I’d come for you off the clock? I needed to ask you a question about carrot prices.”

The group has fallen silent during their exchange; Levi was suddenly aware of the three pairs of eyes darting between himself and the blond grocery store manager.

“It’s a joke,” Levi said flatly.

“You two know each other?” Mike spoke up.

“Levi frequents the store I manage,” Erwin explained. “I’ve met him and his son Max a few times.

There was a change in the atmosphere and everyone except Erwin moved as if suddenly understanding something they had all been aware of beforehand but only just remembered.

“Hanji should’ve told you to bring your wife so you both could have a night off,” Nanaba said casually as she continued setting the table.

It wasn’t necessarily something Levi hadn’t been prepared for. Just when he assumed that he could answer the questions about Max’s mother, when he had fortified himself against the potentialities and vowed to calmly and truthfully address the oddness that was his little family—he would freeze and forget why he even bothered to venture out of his apartment.

The others were staring at him in an awkward silence that acknowledged the trespassing of delicate territory. “My girlfriend—” Levi swallowed the air in his throat before explaining quickly. “I’m not married. It’s complicated.”

“I’m sorry,” Nanaba began to apologize. Levi waved her away, a sudden passiveness enveloping him.

“Don’t be. There’s beer, you said?”

The kitchen Nanaba directed him to was small and cut off from the rest of Hanji and Nanaba's apartment not by walls, but by space and difference of atmosphere; while the living room was obviously Hanji's area of decoration (and destruction), the kitchen was organized in such a neat and modern way that Levi automatically credited it to Nanaba's doing. Above the island hung three opaque white lights suspended from the ceiling on thick black wires. The appliances were shiny chrome and only the ones used most recently boasted the smudges of fingerprints on their steely gray exteriors. The fridge was one of these; Levi pulled the handle on the part where the fingerprints were the most condensed so as to not spread the smudges.

"Get me one, would you?"

Levi forgot for a moment what he came to the fridge to do. Erwin hopped up on the counter next to the sink, a piece of cheese pinched between his fingers. He swung his socked feet, stopping his heel just short of kicking too hard against the cupboards; if Levi didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought Erwin’s fidgeting was out of nervousness. The sound of the others in the dining room arguing over silverware placement was muffled below the sound of Erwin’s legs swishing against each other as he moved them. Levi focused on the contents of the fridge: various vegetables, a plastic tub of soup, and yes—the sight of it brought his task back to his memory—the beer. The door of the fridge closed with a gust of cold air and a sucking fwop. Erwin accepted the bottle with a smile.

"I should've known that when Hanji talked about inviting their grumpy coworker, you were a possibility."

"Four-eyes called me 'grumpy?'" Levi twisted the cap of his bottle and pulled back a red and stinging hand. Fucking local brews and their insistence on using old fashioned non-twist caps.

"I believe 'grump-ass' was the term actually used," Erwin opened a drawer to retrieve a bottle opener. He seemed to know his way around Hanji's apartment well. He courteously plucked the cap of Levi's beer first before uncapping his own. Levi knelt to the floor to pick up the fallen caps in thanks.

“That’s nicer than some of the shit I’ve been called before,” Levi took a long, slow drink, savoring the slight blueberry flavor of the beer.

“I bet,” Erwin replied.

Levi leaned back against the island and looked up at Erwin, daring him to continue. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Erwin grinned and tipped his beer to Levi teasingly. “It means you come off abrasive—that is, when you’re not singing your ABC’s.”

Levi cursed the blush that rose to his cheeks and the way Erwin had come off as an individual who genuinely cared about his grocery experience. One thing in a list of many that he couldn’t tolerate were people who viewed his parenting as humorous, those who saw his affections towards Max and dismissed them as incompatible with his outward appearance. Though he only knew Erwin through brief conversations, he had never pegged the grocery store manager’s nosiness as malicious—at least when it came to his interest in Max.

“I’m kidding,” Erwin hummed a laugh around another swig. When Levi refused to speak, keeping his harsh look of judgment cast on Erwin, the blond continued. “Really. I think it’s great. It’s obvious you’re really dedicated to him.”

“Yeah, well,” Levi paused, suddenly hyperaware of how focused on his words Erwin seemed to be. “Someone has to be.”

A few minutes passed in silence, allowing the two to mull over what had been said. It was all Levi was willing to say about the matter, not because he minded talking about Max (Hanji would argue that it was all he did during their breaks at work), but because after nine months, he still hadn’t found the right way to divulge the reasons for his single fatherhood to others, and he knew it kept him quiet and isolated.

“I’m gonna get back,” Levi said to change the subject, tipping his beer towards the dining room. Erwin nodded but didn’t move from his perch atop the counter, allowing Levi to slip through to the other room to reenter the gathering as a newly revived guest.  


\-------------- 

Never one for extravagant farewells, Levi slipped outside after a quick, collective goodbye, using the bus he needed to catch as an excuse to duck out before the others. The night air welcomed him, pecking at his wine-reddened face to rid him of his uncomfortable warmth. He stopped for a few minutes to release his lungs into the cold with long, clouded breaths. It reminded him of dragon smoke, just as it did when he was a child. He was pleasantly drunk. Whether it was the wine or the warmth of kind acquaintances, he couldn’t decide. The dinner was enjoyable, the new connections reaffirmed that he was indeed still capable of holding a conversation that did not adhere to a rhyming theme, and if asked nicely, Levi would have admitted to feeling a lightness in his heart as he descended the steps of Hanji’s apartment building. The rest of the night had gone off without a hitch after Levi’s short intermission in the kitchen with Erwin; after Erwin rejoined the group, the conversation had flowed easily and Levi felt pleasantly welcome in the closely-knit group.

“Nice night.”

The sound of footsteps behind him registered, but Levi chose not to answer Erwin’s remark until the man was standing right next to him. Even then, he only granted him a nod and a quiet, affirming noise.

“Want a ride home?” Erwin asked into the cold night air. Usually Levi jumped at any chance to not ride the bus back home—it was cleaner, and he could be dropped off right at his apartment building rather than at the bus stop two blocks away. With Erwin, however, he hesitated.

“Depends. You plan on murdering me?”

Erwin laughed, a deep, genuine sound that echoed through the empty street and sent a shiver down Levi’s back. “No, not my most loyal customer.”

Perhaps it was the chill in the air that made Levi’s skin tingle with pins and needles, or the wine settling in his belly that sent the warmth to hover around his chest. But he could, he had to admit, feel a slight grip winding around his lungs at Erwin’s teasing.

It was impossible to get any younger, and Levi was sure that taking the bus cost him two years of his life with every ride.

 _To hell with it_ , Levi thought, and he pointed himself directly at Erwin as if issuing a challenge.

“Your car better not be gross.”

Erwin smiled and led Levi to the car parked across the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost three months later... but who's counting? I had to finish up the school year and then suddenly my family and I moved eight hours away and all of this did wonders for my habit of procrastination. So I'm super grateful for everyone who continued to read and give kudos. You guys are amazing.
> 
> I'm still at [lancecorporalbuttpie](http://lancecorporalbuttpie.tumblr.com/) and I've been considering doing a tracked tag for this fic so if I do I'll post about it over there uwu
> 
> Thank you!!!


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